A life in progress

Mail, mail, mail… a letter to Claude

‘Tis the season for political mail, and after all, I write the stuff, but my own mailbox is pretty clogged by the end of the week.

No on Pro B, Yes on L, No on whatever… I’ve ceased caring. Except for the mail about my race, of course.

But then I opened this letter today, addressed to the resident of my apartment (ie me). It was from the US Postal service and reads something like this:

What 4 digit code?

Why, thank you for your letter dated 30 September, Claude (that has taken until the 16th to arrive, by the way!). So lovely to receive mail from you. It sure makes me sit up and take notice when things are actually in an envelope and are some glossy political nonsense.

Now, evidently, you are telling me to make sure I write my address correctly, which I have been, but thank you for the reminder. We all need to be reminded so often just to remember where we live.

But more importantly, I am supposed to be helping you by sticking four more digits on the end of my zip? Do they have to be digits? Can they be a creative mash of numerals and letters? 94108-4EVA? 94108-BS4U? Or just simply letters? 94108-YEAH? 94108-WOOT!

Obviously, the US Postal Service doesn’t want me to have my extra digits. Therefore, they can go and get f**ked. I will not be doing anything you ask of me, USPS. I know how to write my address.

If only working eighteen hours a day for months on end didn’t make me so snarky…

G’Day! I’m Rebecca.

G'day! I'm Rebecca, an intrepid Aussie who toddled off one day to travel the world. Now I'm lucky to call both San Francisco and Sydney home. So kick up your feet, settle in and enjoy the bits and pieces of my life in progress.